We Sat on the Sidewalk
by LovableMonkey
Summary: Pure chance allowed for Ian Hecox and Emily Warrick to meet, and oure chance will control the course of their relationship and the problems that arise. SMOSH
1. Chapter 1

**We Sat on the Sidewalk**

Hot, sticky July sun beat heavily down onto my pale skin. America was a painful contrast to my hometown in dark, dreary Britain, but the move was necessary. I had found a bungalow on the west coast in California, and had settled down with difficulty.

Now I must highlight this – I never kept fit. Never really had the need. My freakish metabolism and love for all things Italian had fuelled my slim body. My stomach wasn't flat but I had a gap between my thighs, and overall I was relatively happy with my shape.

However, scathing comments from my angry ex-boyfriend had left me ridiculously insecure about my shape, and had left me afraid to go out in public for a few months. I had bared the humid heat two months after my move for a well-needed dose of fresh air and a jog, but I had covered myself in a jacket and leggings.

Bad move.

The sweat was beading down my back and I had barely run half a mile. My throat began to itch but unfortunately I had left my water bottle at home. Taking a quick hit on my inhaler as my chest began to tighten, I kept up the pace on the bubbling tarmac.

A small, crawling figure caught my eye up on the pavement ahead. Dark-haired, pale-skinned. The figure heaved and gasped on the pavement, and I was less than thirty feet away. Curiosity got the better of me and I quenched the warning bells that shot up my throat as I quickly approached the person.

'Are you okay?' I asked.

Ten feet now, and the figure clutched his – or her – chest as they writhed above the ground. Loud attempts at inhaling air filled the empty street, and as I neared ever-closer my caramel eyes met with icy blue depths.

The boy – no, man; he was no boy, that was for sure – whimpered and squeaked a little, tears pooling in his eyes.

'What's wrong?!' I asked louder.

The man clutched desperately at his throat and made the motion of an inhaler in front of his mouth.

Asthma attack.

I quickly grabbed my inhaler from my pocket and slipped it into his stubble surrounded mouth. Red, wet lips clutched at the end as he pushed on the top and took large, faltered breath as he tried to regain his composure. His face was flushed red from what I assumed was the cruel heat.

'Thanks,' he managed to whisper out. 'Sorry.'

I felt my face burning uncomfortably and managed to stutter out, 'You're welcome.' I couldn't look him in the eye for fear of blushing furiously again.

'I'm Ian,' he spoke after a short minute of silence.

'Emily,' I replied shyly.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him struggle for words. 'I was running…' He spoke awkwardly. 'Forgot my inhaler.'

'A necessary thing for someone with asthma, I bet.'

Excellent. Way to point out the annoyingly obvious.

'You're British?' he stated, but it came out as a question.

'Yup,' I confirmed. 'Just moved here a couple months ago. It's too hot here, I don't know how you can stand it!'

'Once you've grown used to the American summers it's easy to forget how cold it is in other places. We're all just used to it, I guess,' he shot me a big grin and I couldn't prevent one from slipping onto my face. 'But you're bound to be hot in what you're wearing, why not shorts and a t-shirt?' he asked.

I could feel my face fill with shame as I self-consciously tugged down on my jacket. Shame filled my face as I could still remember the hateful words that _he _said to me.

_It was the truth_, that niggling voice in the back of my head sneered.

As if sensing the mood, Ian quickly changed the subject – something I was extremely glad about.

And there we sat on the sidewalk until the sun began to set and the air chilled.


	2. Chapter 2

**We Sat on the Sidewalk **

**#2**

Hours and multiple games of 20 questions later, Ian and I had sat till the sun was creeping down behind the horizon and a slight chill nipped the air. Shivering, I rubbed the goosebumps on my arms and started up at the crimson sky that was slowly swirling into a purple night.

'Would you like to come inside for a coffee or something?' Ian asked me.

_He was only doing this out of pity._

'I don't want to be a bother…' I mumbled, and sat up to go.

_He wants you gone._

'Nonesense!' He grinned at me and quickly stood up, stumbling slightly. He stuck his large hand out for me to take and I tentatively placed my miniscule hand inside his. 'It'll be refreshing.'

As he led me to his home which he mentioned was only a 'block away' (still not sure what a 'block' is), I couldn't help but let the warmth that spread from his hand clutching mine encompass my body and relax my muscles. A feeling of being drugged up on marijuana had me walking on Cloud 9.

Still, that annoying doubt in the back of my mind chewed at my conscience and convinced me that I would only be intruding if I were to step into his home only having known him a day. I stopped in my tracks and he turned around to raise a questioning eyebrow.

'I'm sorry,' I apologised, 'I know you're too polite to tell me I'm not wanted but I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. I'll just turn around now and you can forget all about me.'

Ian groaned. 'I _want _you to come in for coffee! Please?' He begged.

I couldn't say no to his enlarged blue orbs and lips slightly parted.

I also couldn't stop the liquid heat that pooled between my legs.

Nodding wordlessly, I allowed him to drag me up to his porch and into his warm home. The heat hit me like a brick wall and immediately the goosebumps dissipated and I stopped shivering. Ian motioned for me to sit down, and I sank into his lovely couch that just seemed like sitting on Heaven.

'How do you take your coffee?' Ian yelled from the kitchen.

Coffee?

What was that?

Dazed and incredibly horny, I managed to wrack through my brain and figure out how I liked it. 'Black,' I replied.

I began to scan the room, looking for signs of a woman living in the house. Large flat screen tele, multiple consoles and games, stray notepads and a few… odd things strewn about the comfortable yet modern room.

Ian wandered in a few seconds later holding two steaming mugs of coffee. I smiled as he handed me the one on the right and then flopped down on the seat beside me.

'So do you play any games?' he asked me moments later.

'What if I said yes?' I asked him.

Ian smirked. 'We'll just have to wait and see.'

I sighed, a smile tickling the edge of my lips. 'Yes, I play games. Every Friday night me and a close buddy order pizza and play on my PlayStation.'

'Oh, yeah?' He shone a wicked grin. 'What kinda games?'

'I'm really into Assassins Creed at the moment, but we play Hitman and sometimes we just play random shit on the Wii.' I guiltily shrugged. I was aware that boys didn't find girl gamers attractive – my ex had made sure to remind me of that whenever I grabbed the controller.

'Awesome!' he laughed. 'You heard of Smosh?'

Smosh. The name most definitely rang a bell, somewhere in my cobweb and hormone infested brain. 'Yep. Heard of it! Wait… Holy crap! I knew I recognised you! Shit. Wow, I subscribed to you guys when you brought out your first video!'

'Thank God we've gotten better since then!' he quickly replied and winked with extreme exaggeration.

Ian began smirking and soon was roaring with laughter and I couldn't help but join in. The absurdity of the situation just seemed too weird to pass up.

The rattling of the lock in the front door made us both stop laughing and glance curiously towards that direction. A second later, Ian groaned just before a head popped round the door with a sheepish grin.

'Sorry, man, but Kalel got pissed with me about something. I didn't know you had a date, I'll just go to a hotel or somethi-'

'No!' I said quickly. I didn't want to get in the way of his roommate (?) and I certainly didn't want to be a burden. The head poked back round, one eye peering at me and the other hidden behind a curtain of dark hair. 'Don't be silly, I've overstayed my welcome long enough. Thanks for a lovely night Ian, but you probably don't want to see me again,' I mumbled the latter to myself.

'Anthony, this is Emily,' Ian mumbled from the couch as he stood up. His cheeks were unusually red. Probably the light.

The man – Anthony – stepped fully inside and thrust his hand towards me with a lopsided grin. 'Don't leave on my watch,' he shrugged. 'Stay.'

This is how I ended up playing Sing Party with the Smosh founders until the late early hours of the morning.


End file.
